


untouched

by crustaceans



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crustaceans/pseuds/crustaceans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi can't sleep.</p>
<p>The universe is punishing him, he thinks, as he lays in bed with a raging hard-on and Kenma’s bleached hair tickling his nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untouched

**Author's Note:**

> they have the same position AND the same jersey number. coincidence? i think not.

Akaashi can’t sleep.

It’s not unreasonable for him to be up until the sun rises, but tonight is different because he isn’t alone. Kenma is asleep in his bed, back flush against Akaashi’s bare chest. Akaashi's arm is asleep and tingling where it is curled uncomfortably beneath Kenma’s shoulders and their combined body heat is making Akaashi sweat. He’s quickly learning that spooning isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in his sister’s dramas and actually kind of sucks. It also doesn’t help that he’s a teenage boy and his boyfriend is sleeping over for the first time.

They haven’t gone much further than making out in the few months they’ve been dating. Kuroo once explained to him that it takes Kenma a long time to warm up to people and get comfortable enough to let them touch him, which Akaashi totally understands, but the selfish part of his brain (his dick, really) is frustrated and horny and honestly just wants Kenma to  _touch_  him.

He feels bad for thinking that way; really, he does, but he’s sixteen and getting tired of waking up to sticky boxers and having to come up with more and more creative excuses about why he’s cycling through laundry faster than his mother can keep up with.

The universe is punishing him, he thinks, as he lays in bed with a raging hard-on and Kenma’s bleached hair tickling his nose.

Kenma shifts closer, ass brushing against his erection and Akaashi is so,  _so_  fucked.

Akaashi tries counting to one hundred. Considers how he’s slacking on his university entrance exam prep. Lists off all the positions on a volleyball court. Anything to distract himself from how good it feels to have Kenma pressed against him and all the things he wants to do to him. His face feels hot. Is he breathing too hard? He expects Kenma will wake up any minute, disgusted with him.

What he doesn’t expect is for Kenma to shift again, closer this time, brushing against his erection in a way that can’t possibly be by chance.

“Are… are you awake?!” Akaashi hisses, just in case Kenma is somehow still asleep. Fat chance.

“Mmm,” Kenma hums his confirmation as he continues to grind against Akaashi.

Well shit.

Akaashi bites his lip and reaches down to tentatively rub at the bare skin of Kenma’s hip where his shirt has ridden up. He’ll let Kenma take the reins, unsure of how far he wants to go.

“Is this okay?”

“Keiji.” Kenma swivels his hips pointedly. “Just touch me.”

Akaashi doesn’t need to be told twice. He reaches in front of Kenma to palm his crotch. Kenma is also hard and whines softly when Akaashi swipes his thumb across the faint wet spot at the front of his boxer briefs. He grips Kenma’s erection through the fabric and tries to mimic the way he teases himself.

“ _Hah_ …” Akaashi can’t help but think how cute Kenma is like this, rutting against him and making those little noises as Akaashi strokes him. He presses his lips to the nape of Kenma’s neck. Kenma tilts his head, baring more skin for Akaashi to swipe his tongue across. He bites down, careful to not use too much pressure so as to not leave a mark. Kuroo and Bokuto didn’t let them hear the end of it for days after Kenma showed up to breakfast at their joint training camp with a hickey blossoming just above the collar of his practice uniform.

Kenma reaches back between their hips, fingers lingering on the waistband of Akaashi’s boxers. Akaashi kisses up his neck to Kenma’s earlobe. “You can… if you want.”

“Okay.”

Kenma slips his fingers under the fabric slowly, hesitating before tugging Akaashi’s boxers down. Akaashi feels his cock spring free as he lifts his hips so Kenma can pull his boxers to his thighs. It strikes him that he hasn’t shaved, hasn’t prepared for this at  _all_ , but then Kenma wraps his hand around Akaashi’s erection and gives it an experimental tug. 

“Shit, Kenma…” Akaashi closes his eyes as Kenma touches him, reveling in the sensation of a hand that isn’t his own. Kenma’s palm is calloused and sweaty, hand smaller than Akaashi’s. Kenma’s grip is fleeting, touches hesitant. Akaashi kisses the soft skin beneath Kenma’s earlobe encouragingly. 

“You can touch me too…” Kenma’s voice is breathy and barely audible. 

Akaashi feels a pang of guilt when he realizes he’s been too caught up in himself to continue touching Kenma. He reaches to grab the waistband of Kenma’s briefs and pulls them down, taking Kenma’s erection into his hand. Kenma gasps when Akaashi’s thumb grazes the tip of Kenma’s cock, still partially covered by his foreskin. Akaashi peels it down, feeling how  _wet_  Kenma is. The tip of his cock is sticky with pre-cum. He spreads it between his thumb and forefinger, dragging the tips of his fingers down the length of Kenma’s erection. Kenma pushes his hips forward and Akaashi takes this as a good sign, moving his hand up and down Kenma’s cock.

The hand around Akaashi’s own cock tightens as Kenma becomes more sure of his movements. Within moments, they’ve found a sort of rhythm as they stroke each other. Akaashi pants, still not fully believing that this is really happening. His face is burning and he knows he’s starting to get close.

“Wait,” Kenma breathes. He releases Akaashi and uses his other hand to push his briefs further down his legs. He guides Akaashi’s cock beneath the curve of his ass and between his thighs. Akaashi moans as he feels the soft skin of Kenma’s thighs against the sensitive head of his cock. Kenma squeezes his legs together and grinds against Akaashi.

“Ngh, oh my god,” Akaashi pants as his cock, slick with pre-cum, slips between Kenma’s thighs.

“Does it — ah, feel good?” Kenma stutters when Akaashi’s cock brushes against his balls.

Akaashi buries his face into the crook of Kenma’s neck, resolve to not leave a mark quickly waning. The position is awkward and his right arm, still beneath Kenma, prickles uncomfortably, but this feels better than he could have imagined. He strokes Kenma in time with his thrusts, shallow and slow. He wants to make this last as long as he can.

Kenma pants loudly. “I think I’m close,” he says, voice hitching.

Akaashi’s resolve breaks and he bites down onto the taut skin of Kenma’s neck and fists Kenma’s cock, focusing only on getting Kenma off. His movements are unsteady and he feels on the edge himself. Just a few pumps later Kenma arches his back and keens, voice low in his throat, dick twitching in Akaashi’s grip as he comes. Akaashi keeps his grip tight around the tip of Kenma’s cock, milking Kenma’s orgasm from him. His hand is slick and coated with cum, but Kenma’s gasps of pleasure are worth the trouble they’ll have to go through to change the sheets later. Kenma’s thighs are still shaking as he clamps down on Akaashi’s cock. It’s good, but intense. Akaashi shudders as he orgasms, coating Kenma’s inner thighs with his cum. It’s a little gross, but mostly hot.

They lie there for a few minutes, panting to catch their breath. Akaashi separates himself from Kenma’s sweaty limbs and reaches over to his bedside table for a few tissues.

“Here,” he says, not meeting Kenma’s eyes. Now that he’s coming down from the afterglow, he feels self-conscious. He hurriedly wipes himself off and pulls his boxers back up. It’s a little concerning that Kenma hasn’t said anything. Does he regret it? Akaashi wonders if Kenma felt obligated because Akaashi was hard and immediately feels like shit.

Akaashi kicks the sheets down to the foot of his bed so they can cool off and lies down on his left side. His right arm still feels prickly from being crushed under Kenma for so long.

Kenma finishes wiping off his legs and pulls his own briefs back up before twisting to face Akaashi. He presses his lips to Akaashi’s, kissing him softly. Kenma’s lips are chapped but full. Kenma reaches around to thread his fingers in Akaashi’s hair, deepening the kiss. Akaashi feels Kenma’s tongue swipe across his lips and opens his mouth eagerly. Kenma pushes a knee between Akaashi’s thighs. They make out like this for a few minutes. Finally, Kenma pulls away and tucks his hair behinds his ears shyly.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Akaashi echoes.

“Sorry for making you wait,” Kenma says quietly.

“What?” Akaashi pulls Kenma close so that their foreheads are touching. “Don’t be sorry. I hope you didn’t feel like you had to do that, though.”

Kenma snorts. “I wanted to.”

“Oh,” Akaashi can’t help but crack a grin. “That was… I liked that.”

“Me too.” Kenma pecks Akaashi on the cheek. “Thanks for marking me up, by the way.” 

“Crap,” Akaashi grimaces. They’re supposed to see a movie with Bokuto and Kuroo tomorrow, or more technically, this afternoon. He can already hear their obnoxious voices taunting him. It’s their fault, he thinks, for setting him and Kenma up in the first place.

“Do you think your sister has something I can use to cover it?”

“Probably.” Akaashi thinks to their shared bathroom, cosmetics always left on the counter. “We can look in the morning.” The idea of asking his sister to help cover his boyfriend’s hickey isn’t exactly appealing.

“Okay,” Kenma sounds satisfied as he settles into Akaashi’s side. “Goodnight, Keiji.”

"You, too.” Akaashi yawns, feeling tired for the first time all night. 


End file.
